


Who is your Daddy? (Big Van Vader)

by johnboy



Series: Daddy Vader (Big Van Vader) [2]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Championship Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Domination, Humiliation, M/M, Public Humiliation, Sex, heel/jobber
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:22:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27440398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnboy/pseuds/johnboy
Summary: Chapter 2 of my fantasy with Big Van Vader and a jobber boy
Series: Daddy Vader (Big Van Vader) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2004556





	Who is your Daddy? (Big Van Vader)

\------where chapter 1 left off ----------------------------------

“Alright boy, its almost Vader Time.” Vader stood up off his stool and turned around. “But first, give Daddy a kiss for good luck.” I knew what he wanted. It had started to become a ritual before all his matches. Still on my knees I leaned forward and kissed Vader’s ass. I had been taught to press firmly enough so Daddy could feel it. My nose needed to be pressed against his ass as well. 

“Good boy. Get up and follow me.” But I stayed on my knees, lost in a trance remembering the first time I was made to kiss his ass. It was during a match between us - a match where I officially became his boy and he - my Big Daddy Vader…

\-----------------new material ------------------------------------

THWACK!!! A big sound was heard as my back hit the mat. I quickly scrambled to my feet knowing that being on my back was not the place to be against this big mammoth of a bear. I was in what many predicted (and rightly) was going to be a squash match. Across the ring walking toward me and laughing was Big Van Vader. A 6’5 380lb alpha male. He was the biggest and strongest wrestler in WCW, and I had the honor (if you could call it that ) of facing him on this Saturday night. I circled around the ring being wise to stay away from the clenches of this super heel. 

Vader stood in the center of the ring and crouched down a little as he taunted. “C’mon boy. Stop being a coward. Come to Papa!” I allowed myself to be roped in by these comments and my temper got the best of me. I sprung against the ropes and plowed with all my might shoulder first into his stomach. The air went out of my lungs as I found out his stomach was rock hard and another loud “thwack” was heard as I hit the mat, this time in a daze. What was I thinking? This man had 5 inches and 200 pounds on me. Why did I think that was going to work?

I felt myself being pulled by the hair forcing myself to my feet. Vader grabbed me by the wrist and pushed me away from his body. But he didn’t let go of my wrist and when our arms were completely outstretched he sling shotted me back towards him and leveled me with a thunderous close line. 

“Who’s Da Man!” I could hear Vader shouting. The next few minutes my pain only increased as I was thrown over and over from one turnbuckle to the other and received a big Vader splash (all 380 lbs of him jumping into the air and plowing into me in that trapped corner. A german suplex, a chokeslam, and a body splash on my prone body on the mat followed. 

I wasn’t sure where I was. I blinked a few times and could hear the sound of his heavy boots walk over me as he straddled my body. I looked up and could see his towering and massive body standing over me. He is black and red tights clung tightly to his big powerful thighs, the kind that I’m sure pancaked too many linemen to count during his Colorado football days. His stomach stuck out well away from his body. But it would be a mistake to call Vader fat. He was powerful, big-boned and muscular, an incredible athlete - he was what I called an alpha daddy bear. But I would never admit that to his face....

He raised his big and beefy arms to the crowd and shouted, “WHO’S THE MAN?” As he soaked in the crowds jeering, I looked at what was a sizeable pouch underneath his belt line. My mouth watered a little. I had to stay focused though and figure out how I was going to beat this man (lol). Vader looked down at me, bent over, gabbed by head in his large hands and hoisted me up to my feet. He locked his right hand with my left, interlacing our fingers. My fingers barely fit around his knuckles. He cranked both of our hands downward using all his strength bending my fingers in a direction they weren’t meant to bend. I fell down to my knees and writhed in pain. My head rested against his knee as I gritted through my teeth. My posture looked like that of a beggar.

“WHO’S THE MAN, BOY? WHO’S THE MAN?” His tone was fierce and dominating. “YOU’RE NOT MAN ENOUGH! SAY IT! SAY IT!” I was in too much pain. I had to make it stop anyway possible. So I gave in. 

“I’m not man enough,” I cried. 

“AGAIN, BOY!”

“I’m not man enough. Please, please. Just let me go.”

“WHO’S DA MAN?”

“You are. You’re the man!” 

Vader had the widest grin, one his mask could not hide. His grin seemed to say something to me. He continued smiling and let me go. I collapsed on the mat face first. Vader started to walk around the ring taunting to the crowd and making jabs at me furthering my humiliation. I heard an evil chuckle as he walked to me and once again pulled me to my feet. Vader bent and easily wrapped his arms around my torso and lifted me up in a tight bear hug. My black trunks were pressed firmly against his stomach; my legs dangled freely though they wanted to wrap around his body; my stomach and chest pressed against his upper body. Vader lifted me higher and tilted backwards - bouncing me a little into tighter and tighter squeezes. He laughed with each bounce right in my face. I began to grow lifeless and started to just hang in his strength. My head almost resting on his big shoulder. I was now close enough for Vader to whisper in my ear - things the ref or the crowd were unable to hear. All this time, Vader spoke with a quiet stern whisper.

“You’re a pathetic little jobber boy. You just admitted in front of everybody that you are not a real man, and that I am the alpha. Only a true jobber boy would say that.” I continued to struggle for breath. 

“You’re not just a jobber boy, though. You are MY JOBBER BOY. Ain’t that right?”

“Yes,” I said with almost no breath.

“Say it.”

“I am your boy.” 

Vader gave me a quick tight squeeze. “Say it one more time.”

“I am your boy.” I was beginning to lose consciousness. 

“Now, here’s the deal. I could drag this punishment out a long time. Or I can take mercy on you and finish this quickly. But only if you agree to be my boy after the match as well.” I had no idea what this meant. Did I really want to do this not knowing what was behind this sadistic whisper of this beast? But then again, this pounding could not continue. I could not survive it. 

“C’mon boy. Make up your mind. You’re not fooling anyone. I can tell you want this from that little poke I feel against my stomach.” He was right. I did secretly want this. I had always been attracted to stronger bigger men, and if not for the pain that secret would have been more obvious. 

“Yes, I’ll be your boy.” A pleased smile creased Vader’s face. 

“Good boy. But first, we’re going to make your submission a little more official.” Vader quickly dropped me from his vice grip but kept me standing. He grabbed my head and forcefully thrust it in between his legs. I was now bent at the waist, head trapped between his thighs. I could feel that sizeable pouch resting on the back of my neck. It was time for a Vader powerbomb. Vader lifted his arms out to the side and shouted at the crowd, “POWERBOMB!” He then lifted me up over his head and slammed me to the mat.

To be continued….


End file.
